


Still Here

by TheUnheardWriter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, Gay, God - Freeform, Happy Ending, M/M, Religion, Supernatural - Freeform, description, one OC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-05-02 02:49:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14535042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUnheardWriter/pseuds/TheUnheardWriter
Summary: A story of Destiel that includes Angst, fluff, emotional feels, a Moose, religious aspects, swearing, sassiness, and confusion. Enjoy!Supernatural and characters in the story belong to the CW, all rights reserved. (besides the Aubreys)Don't like gay? Don't read. Don't like sadness? Don't read. But if you know me I don't leave things sad for long.A long story that is separated into parts.Story by TheUnheardWriter.What will happen when a death changes a life? When for once the death isn't revived and the impact it has devastates those around it. Sam and Dean are called on a case to Indiana but Sam has noticed Dean is not himself anymore but what can he do to help? Dean will go through a rollercoaster of emotions for an inevitable end involving his favorite angel.





	1. Devestation

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone this is my first fanfic on THIS website but I've worked very hard on it over the past two years and it's still not complete but almost there! Hope you all enjoy and the one OC I added does not change anything with the Destiel relationship. It's purely for plot purposes and you will understand what I mean if you read. Enjoy and thank you!

"Alright, Sammy let's go." Dean held the keys in his hand tightly as he waved them in the air, Sam following with his duffel bag hanging over his shoulder. The door to the motel shut abruptly as the brothers made their way to the Impala sitting patiently beneath the blazing sun. The charcoal colored paint was hot to the touch, the chrome accents glistening against the rays. The car was a sight to behold, for it was Dean's prized possession. Both brothers shoved their belongings in the trunk, slamming it shut before climbing into the vehicle, Dean in the driver's seat while Sam took the passenger's. Dean jammed the key into the ignition, the Impala's recognizable engine roaring to life as he began backing out of the parking spot.

Then the two were on the road, on their way to Indiana for a case about supposed hearts being ripped out of civilians' chests.

"Okay, so five victims, all women that don't seem to have anything similar between them, all their hearts ripped out of their chests. Sounds like a werewolf." Dean nodded, his green apple eyes strained on the pavement road ahead, clutching the leather black steering wheel tight. The younger brother looked grimly to his sibling before turning his attention to the chalky window to his right, staring at the trees longingly. The drive was silent, Sam falling asleep at one point, his long brown hair softly falling over his face as he slept. Dean let him sleep, of course, always being the protective older brother who only wanted his baby brother to be happy even if he was stuck in the family business. The Impala reached its destination by nightfall, only having to make one stop at a Gas N' Sip for a refuel before running on the road once again. Baby blended in with the blackness of night as she lay still in an empty parking lot of a cheap motel. Dean nudged his brother awake but Sam didn't wake up, making his way to the lobby of the motel to rent for the night. His arms leaned on the counter, sleep already ready to take over his mind. The owner of the motel was older, his brown hair thinning on his pudgy, old face.

"How many rooms and nights?" The portly man's voice was gruff, his dull green eyes boring into Dean's bright apple green.

"Just one with two beds for a night, thanks." He turned around, grabbing a key to room 2B and handing it to Dean as he put the charge in the cash register.

"That'll be fifty and sixty-seven cents." Dean's hand lazily rubbed his tired face as he fished his wallet out of his back jean pocket, tossing the dollars on the counter before heading back out toward the car and his brother. He had to stay awake just for a little bit longer. His broad hand knocked on the glass window, startling his brother who woke with a jolt before sighing and stepping out of the vehicle. The brothers grabbed their duffels from the trunk, now making their way into the cheap motel room that smelled like dust, stale sex, and alcohol. Was the smell always the same? Dean flicked on the light while Sam dropped his bag on the closest bed, then headed for the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He sighed, trudging towards the bed while he slipped off his jacket and flannel, tossing them in the duffel before slipping off his jeans leaving him in his black T-shirt and boxers. His mind was blank and his eyes were heavy as he fell onto the bed, one arm lazily draped across his face.

Wind swept through his dirty blonde hair as the aroma of a warm summer filled his nostrils. This, this is where he wanted to be. Away from the disasters and tormentous events of the material world. The blue sky hung overhead, speckled with large fluffy white clouds with the large yellow sphere shining down on his features. A smile slowly crept its way onto his lips as he stared at the sight before him. The grass was a vibrant green in an endless field while a large oak tree was only a few meters away, a figure standing beneath it. Immediately, his legs carried him towards the large oak standing perfectly in the middle of the empty field. The warm air and vibrancy of the field caused a happy bliss to fill the man's body as he ran through the lively grass before he stood directly behind the figure, underneath the shade of the oak. The figure turned around and Dean's smile grew larger upon recognizing the distinguishable angel. His trench coat swayed with the light breeze while his large blue eyes shone brighter than ever in the light of the radiant sun. His black hair swayed gently on top of his head while his arms hung gently at his sides. Emotions swelled up in Dean as he ran up to hug the trench coat angel. Damn, it had been a while since he had seen him.

"Hello, Dean." Ah, there it was that distinguishable, deep, gravelly voice of Cas that sounded close to his ear.

"Hey, Cas." The angel's arms wrapped around the man as he drew him closer, the breeze sweeping passed them gently under the shade of the oak tree. Dean pulled away, his arms still remaining on the angel's lower back while the angel's arms hung loosely around his neck. "Where the hell have you been? I missed you, man." Cas stared confusedly into Dean's beautiful green apple eyes as he slowly began to speak.

"Dean, it is extremely difficult to come here. Whenever I get the chance, I will be here," He explained, looking at Dean with a determined expression while his eyes shadowed sorrow. Dean sighed, feeling ill to his stomach, the happy bliss slowly fading away. Cas did everything he could just to see Dean in this landscape and it broke Dean's heart that it had to be this way now.

"I'm sorry Cas...I don't even know why you want to see me," The man grumbled, releasing his grip and looking down to the gentle swaying grass while his arms dropped down to his sides numbly. A broad hand grasped Dean's left cheek, slowly tilting his face upward. The angel's eyes were knitted with confusion as he noticed the man's uneasiness and his expression slowly turning sour. Dean's own hand reached up to clutch the angel's hand against his cheek, savoring the feeling while he could.

"I always want to see you," The angel stated calmly.

"Why? It's my fault, Cas. Why aren't you angry with me? Or unleashing your holy wrath and smiting me down. How can you even stand to look at me?" Dean was rambling now, spitting out the words that had been lingering in his mind for the past few weeks. Suddenly, Cas's other hand yanked the nape of Dean's neck forward, bringing them closer so the angel's blue sapphires could stare deeply into Dean's emeralds with sincerity. The angel's hot breath was on his lips, his eyes unwavering.

"It is not your fault Dean. It was going to happen no matter what. I want you to know that and for you to stop blaming yourself for it is causing more damage than needs to be done." The angel's words bored into Dean's mind like a dagger to the heart. How could he possibly say that it wasn't his fault? Words lingered on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't manage to speak for the angel's stare was causing his knees to want to give out from under him. "It is more important you stay alive. Without you, that small, cruel and doomed little world would be destroyed and gone. And I could not live with the burden of your life on my hands."

"Then why do you think I can?! Every day all I think about is what I could've done to stop it! Dammit, Cas..." Don't you dare cry. Don't you dare. The man's eyes felt heavy, his teeth gritting from holding back the tears threatening to escape. No, not here and now. Not in front of him in this happy place. The angel's baby blue eyes continued to their relentless stare into Dean's, an icy fire with an eerie familiar presence.

"Dean." His voice softened upon seeing the poor, shattered man's state and noticing the man's grasp become tighter against his cheek, bottling up his emotions once again. It had always been a problem for Dean Winchester, to let out the emotions he wanted so badly to let out, but couldn't and instead left them bottled up like a shaken up bottle of coke with mentos inside. Ready to explode as soon as the small plastic cap was twisted off. His green apple eyes hesitantly opened, droplets of water glossed over them. "I'm sorry I cannot help you anymore. I can only be here...no use anywhere else. Um, perhaps I can bring an image of someone you love here to comfort you?" Unexpectedly, the man shook his head 'no', a sad smile stretched on his lips. The angel's head tilted with confusion at his reaction, expecting a rapid nod of the head 'yes', picking someone to appear. "Are you sure? I can display an image of your mother or Bobby Singer, maybe even the Harvelles I believe..."

"I don't need them here right now Cas." He answered, letting the tears slowly begin to stream down his cheeks.

"Why not?" The angel responded, puzzled.

"Because that person is already here." He smiled brightly, hoping the angel would understand, but of course, the oblivious idiot didn't. He only looked more confused, clearly waiting for an explanation.

"I don't understand." The Winchester chuckled at the statement, really not wanting to have to explain. However, it was extremely difficult to fight the urge to when the angel's entrancing sapphire eyes were staring right through him. His right hand reached to wipe the tears from his cheeks, stifling his sobs while clutching to the angel's hand as if he were dying. Their hands slowly fell, still grasping onto each other as they fell to their sides. Castiel, shocked and confused, relished in the feeling of the man's hand against his own. It was rough, tainted with battle scars, but it was warm and comforting, a feeling of security.

"I need you, man." A whisper, barely audible, but Castiel felt the three words clench his heart, it felt similar to another three-word phrase. "I...I really need you."

"I need you too, Dean." His grasp tightened, both focusing on each other as another light breeze blew past, gingerly flowing through their hair. Dean felt his heart clanging rapidly against his ribcage, feeling warm inside.

"This is you right? I'm not dreaming? There's no spell being put on me right now?" The corner of Castiel's lips turned upward slightly, before falling once again as he spoke.

"I am me, however, I'm simply using a ves-" The angel was interrupted when Dean's soft eyes turned frigid and stern, glowering down on him.

"No. Don't you dare say that. This-" He paused to have both hands grip onto the front of the angel's beige trench coat. "This is you. Just you. Jimmy is gone and that leaves you. I'm sure you look all holy and powerful without it, but... " The sentence fell faint, Dean's eyes leaving the angel's face to glance to the vibrant green grass swaying ever so gently.

"Dean...? You're crying again." Dean could, in fact, feel tears streaming down his cheeks once again as he hesitantly looked back to the angel who still had his usual confused expression.

"If... you... then why do you still look like that? Shouldn't your body be on Earth?" Castiel's eyes widened, a slight panic falling over his face. Why was he looking so panicked?

"It's... complicated. What is important is we enjoy the time here." Dean looked into Castiel's eyes, trying to find the answer to his sour expression. Why did he look so upset? Castiel let go of the man's hand reluctantly, moving to rest his back against the large oak tree. He bent his knees, his arms resting on top of them as he looked to Dean expectedly, motioning with his eyes for him to sit as well. The man rolled his eyes as he strolled over to sit next to him, copying his position as he wiped his face with the collar of his T-shirt to get rid of the stained tears.

"Why are we sitting under the one place without the sun?" Dean chuckled to himself, moving over a bit to give him and the angel some space as they looked out to the field covered only in grass and some flowers.

"I'm warm." Warm? Seriously?

"Well, maybe if you weren't wearing those duds of yours, you wouldn't be." The angel nodded, shrugging the trench coat off his shoulders while he slid the black suit jacket off as well and loosened the navy blue tie. He looked to Dean for approval, but Dean wasn't paying attention. Green apple eyes were focused on the canopy of dark green leaves hanging overhead, clearly thinking deeply. "Cas."

"Yes, Dean?" Dean hesitated, fluttering his eyes closed, avoiding eye contact with Castiel.

"What am I to you? Just another monkey you pulled out of hell?" Shocked by the question, Castiel looked out to the field, trying to find an answer. However, the field didn't only leaving him with the first words that came to mind.

"What I treasure most." Dean's eyes opened quickly, looking to the angel who refused to look back and instead stared down at the cool grass beneath him. Was that really who Dean was to him? Out of everything in the world? Someone treasured? The angel looked vulnerable without his trench coat and suit. His shoulders seemed to relax more while his face was less tense with a content expression. He looked- Shut up Dean.

"You can't be serious." Baby blue met green apple as they finally looked back to each other, Castiel's face sorrowful and concerned.

"I am very serious, Dean." He paused, licking his lips in a daze and shying away once again. "Why can't you see how important you are?" Dean's heart was throbbing at this point, to the point of exploding in a burst of warmth. No one had ever treated him with so much... love. Why did Cas have so much faith in him when he didn't have faith in himself? "Dean." He spoke again, his gruff tone echoing around them. "I'm not sure what the right word is, but I feel a very strong profound bond with you. You have taught me a lot Dean, especially about free will and boycotting what you believe is an injustice. My last years are what I consider my life because I spent them with you and Sam, fighting for what I believed was right. Looking back, I caused suffering and pain but I was able to stand against Raphael, be the God I thought there should be, get you out of Purgatory, lead a group of angels against Metatron, helped remove the Mark of Cain from your arm, and be the vessel for Lucifer to defeat the darkness. Yes, many of those ended horribly but I didn't feel shackled down anymore. I tried to do the right thing for you. I wanted you to be happy because I did something right for once. Of course, that never happened but hopefully, you are happy now that I am not ruining the world with my failures." Nervously, the angel turned to see Dean wide-eyed, a frown etched on his lips while his face was red from anger.

"I was happy you damn idiot! I was happy being alive and knowing my brother and best friend were too! I could give two shits what those sons of bitches did as long as you two were okay and you never were... " Dean paused, noticing his rage and began to calm down noticing the fear in Cas's eyes. "You saved me. So many times. You made me laugh and smile when the world went to hell. And when you left us, I called that damn phone of yours more times than I can count. I did everything I could to get you back. Everything. So when you died from that damn rogue angel, you think I was happy? Happy that the person I care for most next to Sam, hell maybe even more, was gone?" Dean's hands were throwing around in wild gesticulations, his face contorted with rage. How could Cas say that about himself? Slowly, he took easing breaths to calm down and finish his venting. "I know what you think of yourself Cas. You're not evil, okay?" Cas nodded solemnly, touched by the man's words. The first time he had ever heard those words spoken to him and they were from someone who meant so much to him so he felt it would be good to return the favor.

"You are a good person, Dean."

"You are necessary Cas," Dean responded, barely noticing the words leaving his lips.

"You are strong."

"You are important."

"You are righteous."

"You are loved." Dean shot back, not realizing what he said. Why were they saying these things anyways? Did they know how they felt about themselves? Dean expected the same shocked look he had seen before since Cas was an angel and did not know everything about humanity. However, the angel smiled to himself, staring out into the distance while the large grin stretched his lips. Cas? Smiling genuinely?

"That's the word I was looking for." Looking for?

"What the hell are you talking about?" His tone was harsh, even though he did not mean it to be.

"That is how I can describe our relationship. I could not find the right word." Cas's hand reached over to take Dean's hand in his own while the smile never left his face. Dean's cheeks were a rosy pink, paralyzed in shock at the angel's description of their relationship. Wind picked up around them, leaves scattering everywhere. The words were on the tip of the man's tongue, just patiently waiting to be said, but he couldn't. A startling voice that haunted him his entire life echoed through his head as if it were shouting out into the Grand Canyon. 'What are you doing with a man, Dean? You tellin' me you're a fag now, huh? Already useless, now you're nothing.' John Winchester. His hand quickly released Cas's hand, already fearing his father seeing the scene right now.

"No, I can't. He'd forbid it." In the corner of his eye, Dean saw Castiel put his hand back in his lap, the pain of rejection present on his face but also anger which scared Dean a little.

"Are you talking about your father?" The angel asked through gritted teeth, his gruff voice remaining monotone as he spoke. Dean nodded, looking down once again but his face was quickly lifted up by Cas's left hand, his blue eyes glaring with a look that could kill the most fearless man in the military. "John is dead, Dean. He can-" Dean suddenly shouted, his emotions welling up inside him once again.

"Well so are you!" A dagger twisted in Castiel's heart once the shout rang through his ears. Instead of lashing out as well, Castiel released his hand, swiftly yanking Dean in an embrace as to extinguish the fire instead of fueling it. The angel expected to be pushed away, alternatively, however, Dean wrapped his arms tightly around the angel, his face knitted in an expression repeatedly saying 'don't cry'. Another breeze blew past, ruffling their hair and whipping against their faces.

"I'm still here," Cas whispered gently, subconsciously running his fingers through Dean's dirty blonde locks. Dean's body was racked with silent sobs now, clutching onto the angel's body as if it were to disappear between his trembling fingers.

"Don't hate me for saying this." Castiel's eyebrows furrowed with confusion, wondering if he was speaking to his father or Castiel. "I love you, Castiel." The angel softly smiled, his usual stone angel heart warming up like a furnace filled with coal. If there was one thing he would love to hear every day it would be hearing Dean Winchester saying Castiel's full name instead of just his nickname.

"I love you too Dean." His husky voice whispering next to the man's ear. The man clutched onto the white button up, the polyester fabric wrinkling under his quivering hands. In the midst of his sobbing, a smile once again reached his face, digging his head into the crook of the angel's neck. "I like it when you say my full name." Dean smiled brightly again, even though Cas couldn't see it. His head lifted, backing away a little to look the angel in his eyes while still holding onto the white polyester.

"Castiel." He spoke proudly, causing Castiel to smile until it slowly faded the longer their eyes bored into each other. Dean's green apple eyes were brighter than ever, shining down on Castiel as if they were the sun itself. Blue eyes watched as Dean's eyes wavered to Castiel's lips, then back up again and turning away as if he got caught tripping his brother. His grip on the shirt was gone now, hands dropping numbly down to his sides while he sat with his right leg bent at a right angle and left leg stretched out.

"Your father is still troubling you." Castiel noticed the slight tremble of fear cross Dean's face, so he gingerly grasped his chin once again to bring his attention to him. Then he did the thing that Dean would never have imagined himself doing ever. The thing that if you told him he would in the future he would call you insane and to 'screw off'. The thing that would make his father disown him on the spot if he ever found out.

The angel kissed him.

It was light, short and sweet, the lovely feeling only lingering on Dean's lips for a few seconds before disappearing altogether. His eyes were fluttered close, still leaning towards Castiel even though his lips were gone.

"Dean I'm sor-" His sentence was cut off when his head was jerked forward towards Dean's lips once again, slowly shutting his eyes to savor the feeling. It was only the second time he had done such a thing, the last time being with the demon Meg, although this time was much more meaningful. Their lips locked and moved in symphony beneath the shade of the oak tree, Dean's hand in Castiel's fluffy black hair. Dean's pink lips lingered a moment before reluctantly pulling away again and taking Cas's hands once again, intertwining their fingers. A smile graciously stretched his lips as he saw Cas's smile as well.

"Almost left me hangin' there." Castiel tilted his head in confusion, but his smile never left. "Stretch your legs out." Again, Castiel looked to Dean confused, but he complied, leaning back against the trunk of the oak tree. He watched as Dean slowly leaned down, his dirty blonde hair falling into Castiel's lap as he smiled up at him with wonder in his eyes like a child's.

"Dean, what are you doing?" The man didn't respond, only taking the angel's hand and putting it in his hair to motion it back in forth in a petting motion. Castiel adhered to the man's wishes, gingerly petting the man's hair, once in awhile taking a few strands between his fingers. His emerald eyes were shut, a pleasant expression falling over his features as he felt affection wash over him. "Am I doing this ri-" Dean raised a finger to Cas's lips to quietly shush him before crossing his arms over his chest once again. Letting the happy bliss rise up again, and he felt a light breeze brush past him and sighed gleefully. He cherished the feeling of Cas's hand running through his hair affectionately. The hands used in many battles before, the hands that kept him safe from various dangers.

"Hey, Cas."

"Yes, Dean?" He responded quietly, to try and not disturb the peaceful silence between them. He was enjoying the peaceful moment as well, Dean was finally showing his emotions and of all beings to Castiel.

"Tell me a story." A story? Castiel pondered for a moment of what story to tell. He replayed all of the years of his life, scanning through to find the perfect story to tell until he came up with the perfect idea.

"Hmm...there was an angel in heaven, still fairly young and witnessed as his father worked to create the new souls for the human race. He watched his light as it carefully structured spheres of light, some shining brighter than others, some larger than others. He was a curious angel and one day he went up to one of the glowing spheres and held it gently in his hands. It was large and one of the brightest he had ever seen. He went to his older brother, smiling proudly as he held it up to his brother. The curious angel asked his brother who the soul will belong to and his brother only smiled, telling him to ask their father. So the angel did, he went up to his father, holding up the soul as if it were the most fragile item in creation and to him, it was. The angel asked his father who the soul will belong to, but his father only smiled softly, responding with 'that will be the righteous man saved by a lost angel.' The curious angel frowned at the statement looking down at the soul and adoring how beautiful it was. 'Why can't it be me, father?' he asked, but his only answer was another smile before he walked away to leave the angel to put the soul back where he found it. The angel didn't touch it again, afraid he would break it, however, he did see it a few times around heaven before it was sent down to Earth along with its new owner. He watched the soul he admired so much grow up from a baby boy to a young child, a child who was taught to be raised as a soldier like himself. The other angels mocked him for admiring a mere human, a human that has no powers and must be weak. However, he didn't believe that. The boy was strong, for he was one of the few who knew there were other beings, more dangerous beings so he protected his brother from it all as well as their father. All he wanted was for his brother to grow up happy and safe so he would take the training from the father, give away the chance he had at a happy life with a wife and children. The boy grew up trained like a soldier even though his father had passed and, protecting and saving many people just like his father taught him all while killing supernatural beings that threatened the safety of humans. He always believed he was evil and no good, not important so he never asked for appreciation or a mere 'thank you'. The curious angel watched as he cried to himself when his brother was gone, wishing for a miracle to make him feel worth something but it never came. During the apocalypse, the man was killed by a hellhound for he had sold his soul to save his brother. Anything for his younger brother. He was sent to hell, leaving his grieving younger brother behind. In heaven, the angel had watched the entire scene and felt deep down for the first time a new feeling his older brother called 'sadness'. He heard from other angels that the soul, no, man, he admired most was tortured in hell by one of its worst demons. They forced him to become the torturer no matter how much he refused. The angel could not take it anymore for he could practically hear the screams of agony all the way in heaven. He was lost himself, a rejected angel that was just a mere soldier and nothing else. One night, he remembered his father's words from when that man was merely a soul, 'that will be the righteous man rescued by a lost angel.' When was that lost angel going to rescue him, he asked himself. Time after that went on until his father took the angel's shoulders in his hands and said the words he would never forget, 'Go my son and save the righteous man'. The lost angel all along his father had mentioned was him and he could not feel more honored. Hell was crawling with demons, the angel getting attacked at every corner, fighting back with only an angel blade with burn marks scouring his body while blood ran down his forehead and arms. He ran for his life, praying to his father to give him the strength to save the righteous man. The demons tried, but to no avail for the angel was determined. His eyes saw the slowly dimming soul, its body chained and shackled so he quickly broke through them, clutching the man's body to his chest his hand clutching tightly enough to his arm to leave a scar in the heat of hell. He fought with one hand, making sure no more damage comes to the man's body as he flew out of hell, severely wounded. His soul returned to his body buried in the ground, but he woke, bursting free from the soil and eventually found his brother. Now, the angel meanwhile had let everyone know, screaming throughout all of the angel's heads, 'Dean Winchester has been saved.' After that, they soon met again, the angel presenting himself to the man he had admired for so many years, but the man did not welcome him with open arms. He was wary of another supernatural being which was understandable, but the angel was hurt inside even if he did not show it. They grew closer after that, the man finally accepting the angel as not a monster." Castiel finished his story, still running his hands delicately through Dean's hair, patiently waiting for his response, but he only saw tears stinging at the corners of Dean's shut eyes. "Dean...?"

"Cas... " Voice cracking, he took Cas's other hand in his own. "Thanks for the story."

"I'm glad you liked it." Cas smiled though Dean couldn't see it. Of course, he would tell the story of when he first met Dean. They endured the peaceful silence once again, just enjoying one another's presence while they could. Dean was so damn happy for once and hell be damned if anyone tried to take it from him. However, of course, whenever Dean has happiness someone or something, has to ruin it for him. Cas's hand was gone, it now covering his ear, while he screamed out in pain causing Dean to jolt up from the strident sound.

"Cas! Cas! What's wrong?! What is it?!" Dean yelled frantically, taking the angel's shoulders in his grasp to try and calm him down, but to no avail. His screams didn't cease until Dean could make out two words rasping out of his chapped lips, 'holy spirit'. They were so high pitched, almost enough to break the glass like when he first heard Castiel's real voice. His hands were clutching against his ears, anything to make the shrilling sound disappear, though it was futile. "Cas!" He clutched onto the angel until his cries refrained and Dean slowly uncovered his ears and looked into his bothered blue eyes. "Cas..."

"I'm... sorry, Dean I have to go."

"What do you mean go?! You were just screaming for no reason and mumbling some weird mojo crap. What the hell was that?" Grumbling, he trailed his hands down to take Cas's in his own. The angel sighed, taking a deep breath before speaking, clearly thinking through his words carefully.

"Someone is here... someone of great importance. Don't worry," He paused to grab Dean's upper left arm, right where the handprint that was seared into his skin was and looking him deeply in the eyes with reassurance. "I will watch over you." An easing feeling rose throughout the man at the angel's words. His eyes met the grass, breaking the trance from the beautiful sapphires when he felt Cas's strong grip slowly fading so he looked up again. The angel's face was fading away, along with his swaying trench coat, windswept black hair, and suit. There was a sympathetic look on his face as he was fading away, a look saying 'everything's okay.' "Please smile for me, Dean." However, he couldn't. There were tears stinging at his eyelids as he tried so hard not to break down right there. Dean's heart felt heavy as the angel faded away into a bright white mist. It wasn't like before where he would be gone with the flutter of wings and then be back the next day. He was gone until Dean was lucky enough to see him as soon as he fell asleep. The vibrant grass turned darker, the blue sky overhead clouded over gray, the illuminating sun fading behind it. Their happy palace turned into a dark and barren landscape. His previous happy bliss diminished, leaving him to his dark thoughts once again. Sam knew, but there was nothing he could do to help his brother, the thoughts kept appearing no matter what.

His knees gave out from beneath him, landing on the once vibrant green grass, his palms shielding his face. Stop being a baby Dean. Everyone dies and you knew he would too once he entered your life. Except for this time, there's no revival from the Lord because he left. There's no spell to bring back him back because no one's strong enough. There's no creature to snap its fingers and bring him back because no creature would. No nothing. Just you crying about something that can't change. He's gone Dean, and it was all your fault.

Left alone, he looked around at the previously radiant field which was now left somber, as if the darkness had appeared once again. A pitch black cloud of smog drifted over the field, right towards Dean who had no idea with his eyes shut tight. It was an accelerated hurricane sweeping across the plain, a hurricane enough to wipe out a county. Dean looked behind him at the last second, his eyes widening in fear as it sailed over him, taking him into an abyss of blackness.

-

"Dean, wake up. We slept in." Sam's calm and clear voice rang through his blurry mind as he groggily woke to the material world once again. He sighed, easing his panting breaths as his eyes stared openly at the ceiling. "Woah, dude are you okay?" His brother had noticed the panting breaths and the look of terror on his face as he looked at the ceiling as if it were foreign.

"I'm fine," Dean responded, shakily standing up and heading towards the bathroom with determination in each step. Something had sparked a fire of rage in him and Sam noticed that.

"Dean come on man. I don't know what's gotten into you lately. Well, besides... that. I want to help you." He gave his famous puppy eyes that were so difficult to say no to, his brother looking at him from the bathroom.

"Sam, I'm fine." The younger rolled his eyes in response, shoving his laptop in his duffel along with his T-shirt.

"You woke up as if someone was chasing you. Yeah, sure you're fine." The slamming of a toothbrush was heard, Dean holding himself up on the what used to be white sink as he glowered at his brother from across the room.

"You know what Sammy? I saw Cas." Sam quickly shut up after that, his eyes flickering towards his duffel to avoid Dean's harsh gaze. If Sam ever even mentioned his name, he was threatened and ignored by his brother for a week, he learned that the hard way. What did he mean he saw him? In a dream or something? "What do you know about a holy spirit?" His brother's tone was less harsh now, Sam whipping his head around questionably.

"Holy Spirit? Not much, just that it's a Christian belief." Sam shrugged, Dean walking out of the bathroom now to throw his stuff in his duffel.

"Where can you find it?" Sam's hazel eyes glared with concern. Find it? What purpose does it serve for Dean if he finds it? Can you even find the holy spirit? Is it even real or just a belief?

"What? I don't even know if that thing is real, Dean. Why do-" His sentence was cut by Dean's words acting as scissors, jagged and harsh.

"It's real. Why else would he say that? We have to find whatever the hell it is." Okay, his brother had officially gone crazy. Cas was dead how could he speak to him? And why the holy spirit of all things? If anything, Dean was the least holy person he knew.

"Woah, Dean slow down. What exactly did Cas say in your hallucination or whatever?" His brother sighed gruffly, clearly irritated.

"He said holy spirit as he was screaming. Look, the details aren't important what is is that-" Sam quickly cut him off, baffled by their conversation, to say the least.

"Let's go get breakfast and you can tell me there and in the car. Everything. Don't leave out one detail." Sam stated abruptly, ushering Dean out the motel door once he swung his duffel bag over his shoulder. However, he noticed his brother's quick look of worry once Sam had mentioned stating every detail. Was he trying to hide something from him, again? The two brothers made their way back out to the parking lot, seeing Baby illuminated in the radiant sunlight against her ebony paint. Once in the car, Dean in the driver's seat and Sam in the passenger's seat, the familiar smell of leather and beer filled their nostrils, a musty smell following, but they loved it. She roared out of the parking lot, her recognizable purr alerting everyone around her. "Alright, talk." The road was fairly vacant, another car only passing by every few minutes so Dean would be able to focus on speaking as well. Dammit. Guess he can't fake his way out of this one.

"Sammy really it's-" Dean was cut off by Sam's words once again, spitting at him in an irritated tone.

"It is important Dean. I'm starting to believe you've gone crazy." The older sighed, beginning to rummage his mind about what happened and the best way to say it, leaving out some details without Sammy noticing. So he began telling the story. He explained he was in a bright field when he saw a tree with a person underneath, soon finding out it was Cas and went up to him, leaving out the detail of their hug. Then he explained how he asked Cas where he had been, retelling his response in fewer words. "Uh...then I told him what's been happenin' down here and the case, just the usual stuff Sammy. Out of nowhere after we sat down, the guy starts screaming and then he left saying someone of 'great importance' was there then everything turned dark and you woke me up." He finished, glancing at Sam to see a glare, his arms folded across his chest. Uh oh.

"Dean, you really need to get better at lying. What else-" They reached their destination, Baby pulling into a parking spot in the front of a small diner with a large ramp in the front leading up the two large glass doors. On top in large letters, neon later, wrote 'Olympia Diner' while the whole building was covered in windows except in the back. He quickly shut off the ignition, stepping out of the car quickly to try and avoid Sam's questioning, even though he knew it was impossible. His brother hastily followed after him through the twin glass doors, taking in the familiar scent of burgers, grease, and mold. Yeah, usually these places were fairly clean, but there was still that musty, dingy smell. Dean greeted the waitress, a beautiful blonde female with large blue eyes with a gorgeous smile showing her pearly white teeth. Usually, Sam has to deal with his brother's constant flirting, but today he greeted her normally with only occasional glances as she led them to a booth near the center of the restaurant. They sat down, both murmuring 'thanks' as she responded with the typical 'have a nice meal'. Why was Dean acting so strange? His shoulders were tense, his green eyes darting everywhere as if someone were watching him and his face was contorted in a stern expression. Grabbing his menu to shield himself from his younger brother, Dean's eyes scanned over the items on the menu, anything to avoid the conversation with Sam.

"Dean come on man. Was it really that bad that you can't tell me?" Sam gave his famous puppy eyes in order to try and persuade his brother to tell the whole story because he sure as hell was leaving out a lot of details. "What happened between you and Cas?" Immediately, he noticed Dean's uneasiness about his name, but instead of a glare like the last time, his eyes softened as if they were defeated. What the hell was wrong with him?

"I can't tell you, Sammy. Just try to understand." His voice was soft, flowing peacefully in a broken tone. Hurt.

"That's what I'm trying to do Dean. You keep turning me away every time he's even mentioned." His brother regretfully looking away from his menu to look Sam in his hazel eyes that were full of worry and concern.

"I know, I know. Look, we're getting our minds off the case, we can talk later." Did Dean really mean that? No, of course not. He simply used the case to distract Sam's mind from trying to get the more 'detailed' story from Dean. It worked, Sam nodding in understanding when a waitress came over, long red hair curled with bright blue eyes and well in shape. Sam found her beautiful and strange that she worked in such a place, but he shrugged it off, smiling at her as she pulled out a pad to write down their orders.

"Hi, I'm Ana and I'll be your waitress today. Can I start you boys off with any drinks?" She smiled graciously, flipping some hair over her shoulder. Sam nodded, asking for two beers and glancing at Dean for a moment. "Sure thing, did you want to order?" They nodded, Sam ordering a garden salad for himself while Dean ordered a bacon cheeseburger with fries. "Awesome, they'll be out shortly." She took the menus but looked at Dean, noticing the expression of despair on his face as well as frustration. "Sir, are you okay?" The waitress asked gently, her eyebrows knitted to form a sympathetic expression as held the menus tightly in her pale arms. Dean looked broken, worse than ever as his green eyes turned to Ana, trying not to cry once again.

"I'm fine." Fine. One of Dean Winchester's favorite words, but she didn't seem to buy it, reaching for Dean's shoulder as her eyes told a story.

"You know, everything works out in the end, even the impossible can happen." That's all she said before she left to put in the orders, leaving a stunned Dean who was unsure what to say. Why would a waitress give a rat's ass about how he felt?

"Okay, what the hell was that?" Dean asked gruffly, turning to Sam with an unamused expression. Sure, the waitress was strange and maybe she was connected somehow to the missing hearts.

"I don't know, maybe she's connected to the case somehow." Sam paused to pull out his laptop, typing in keywords to find the article once again to try and find more information. They talked about the case for a while, slowly putting pieces together when Ana came over to give them their food, who Dean was still skeptical of. "Well, I say we go talk to the family of one of the victims first, they say the husband witnessed what happened." Dean nodded, and they finished their lunch, paying the bill by dropping a twenty on the table before heading out the doors. However, as he walked out, Dean turned around to see Ana smiling sympathetically at him and that's when he noticed the gold cross hanging loosely around her neck.


	2. The Photo and Strange Boy

They had put on their FBI suits, or monkey suits as Dean calls them, parking the Impala in front of a white suburban house with dark green bushes littering the front. The house seemed dark on the inside, although the sun was shining brightly above them. Sam knocked on the navy wooden door, straightening his overcoat while Dean fumbled with his collar for a moment. A man with jet black hair answered the door, his eyes swollen red, most likely due to sobbing or maybe even drugs at this point. He glanced between the two questionably before Sam pulled out his FBI badge along with Dean, the gold plate reflecting against the luminescent light of the sun. 

“We’re sorry to bother you Mr. Aubrey, but I’m Agent Gabriel and this is my partner Agent Collins, do you mind if we ask you about what happened that night with your wife?” Sam asked calmly, his presence serene but the man only looked back with confusion evident on his face. 

“I already spoke to the cops about what happened. Are you sure this is necessary?” They both nodded, the man allowing them inside the dull house, walking into the foyer to notice photos of a long haired brunette woman with dark green eyes and always smiling. Sad to think she was dead now. The brothers got a better look at the man, noticing his tattered black T-shirt and blue jeans with no shoes, and unshaven. He was a wreck alright. “Let’s talk in the living room.” The man led them to the right, the living room now present with it’s black leather couches and white paint coating the walls. Photos were scattered everywhere, while a TV hung on the back wall in front of the largest couch with a glass coffee table separating them, magazines littering it. Suddenly, Sam noticed a teenage boy resting on the couch, his dark blue eyes fixed on the screen. Mr. Aubrey realized too because he ran his hand through his hair before it fell down to rub his face. “Finn, can you go to your room for me?” The brothers got a better look at the boy, noticing he had jet black hair like his father as well as bright blue eyes. He was silent, only sitting up and beginning to walk out of the room shrugging past the ‘agents’ and his father, clearly upset. They heard the stomping of footsteps on the wooden stairs they saw earlier in the foyer before the slamming of a door was heard as well. “I’m uh sorry about my son agents. He’s always been fairly unsocial but after the incident, well, it just got worse. He barely even speaks to me anymore.” Mr. Aubrey sighed, his red, puffy eyes glancing down at the floor in shame. 

“It’s okay, we’ve seen it many times before but you know, my partner here is pretty good with kids so maybe he can talk to him.” Sam, or Agent Gabriel, stated, a reassuring smile plastered on his face. Dean looked at him with his eyebrows furrowed, but didn’t say a word. 

“I mean, you could give it a try Agent Collins, second door on your left. I don’t know what to do anymore.” Sam nodded in understanding, guiding the shattered man to the couch while he jerked his head towards the wooden stairs in the foyer to tell Dean to go upstairs. The older complied, sauntering up the loud lumber steps as he moved until Sam heard the creaky sound of the door opening and closing, turning back to Mr. Aubrey who sat on the black leather couch while Sam sat in the armchair. His arms rested on his knees as he hunched over to listen to the man with a reassuring expression. 

“Don’t worry Mr. Aubrey, if anyone can get your son to talk, it’s him. He lost his mom when he was young too.” Mr. Aubrey’s eyes lit up with hope, though a grim frown plastered his face. 

“I’m sorry to hear that. No one should have to go through that… “ His words shied away at the end, his eyes falling on his twiddling thumbs. 

“So, what can you tell me about that night. Anything weird, such as a smell of sulfur, cold spots?”  
-  
Dean knocked on the white wooden door, noticing the scratches on the side of the archway. He was thankful Sammy let him talk to the kid instead of talking to the man. The kid opened the door, noticing the agent and glancing him up and down with a murderous glare. The walls were navy blue, photos on the floor, while a mirror was toppled over as well as a lamp. It looked as if some WWE fighter came in and trashed the place. The kid moved back onto the bed, not sparing Dean a glance as he whipped his phone out and placed in his Apple earbuds, shutting his eyes and resting his arms behind his head. Meanwhile, Dean searched the room, noticing a few pillows strewn on the other side of the bed. As he was curiously looking, the kid spoke in a confident and monotone voice. 

“I know my dad sent you up here, but you can leave. Don’t want to burden you with my presence.” He said his second sentence in a sarcastic tone, clearly imitating someone but not opening his eyes for one word. Dean sat on the bed, it sinking a bit at the sudden weight but the kid didn’t even flinch. 

“What’re you listening to?” Dean asked suddenly, the kid peeking one eye open to glance Dean over again, while a small smile graced his lips. He pulled the left earbud out, sitting up a bit, his back resting against the headrest. 

“Digital Daggers, wanna listen?” Why the hell not? Dean nodded, taking the earbuds from the kid who was holding them out towards him and putting them in his ears. “I’ll start it over for you.” The song started over, a female singing in a low voice while a depressing tune played faintly in the background.

Musing through memories, losing my grip in the gray. 

Numbing the senses, I feel you slipping away. 

Dean felt his heart began to pound as the female continued to sing, her enticing voice urging him to continue to listen though he didn’t typically appreciate music like this. 

Fighting to hold on, clinging to just one more day.

Love turns to ashes with all that I wish I could say. 

I’d die to be where you are.

I tried to be where you are.

Was the female singing a song about Dean’s current life, cause it sure as hell sounded like it. It felt as if the song was coursing through his heart and soul, telling him how he felt even though he already knew. 

Every night, I dream you’re still here.

The ghost by my side, so perfectly clear. 

When I awake, you’ll disappear, 

Back to the shadows, with all I hold dear.

With all I hold dear. 

I dream you’re still here.

I dream you’re still here.  
Suddenly the music stopped, Dean glancing at the kid wide-eyed, practically begging with his eyes for an answer to why he stopped. Why did he? Did something happen? A hot tear streamed down his cheek and he realized the kid was staring at him in wonder and sympathy, clutching the phone in his hand and slowly taking his earbuds back.  
“I see. So, who’d you lose?” The kid seemed rather calm for the blunt question he just asked a ‘federal agent’. “I’m only asking cause I noticed you seemed kinda depressed, wondered why.” Who the hell was this kid? Some psychic? Mind reader? 

“How could you tell?” The question came out of his mouth before he could stop himself, his hand clutching over his mouth while his eyes were shut securely, trying to stop the oncoming storm. 

“It’s obvious. Your eyes didn’t look me in the eyes once, your hair's a mess, your suit is roughly put together, you walk as if you have a boulder on your back, your right hand keeps fidgeting as if it misses something, your eyes are also red from crying and you reacted pretty emotionally to the song.” Instead of being impressed by the kid’s extreme observation skills, Dean moved his hand from covering just his mouth to cover his whole face in shame as if he were just told his dog died. However, his snarky personality didn’t cease, moving his mouth to speak through sobs. 

“Who are you, Sherlock Holmes?” He heard a laugh from next to him, the kid clearly enjoying the fact he was called a fictional detective. 

“I wish, but no. It’s just obvious. I used the song to make sure I was right. So, wanna talk about it?” The agent shook his head. I’m not talking to a kid about my pathetic problems when I was here to comfort him. “Well, whoever you lost they seem pretty important. Oh, maybe I can guess. Hmm.” Dean could tell the kid was glancing him over once again, looking for any hints as to who he possibly could’ve lost. There’s no way he’d guess it’s a holy tax accountant. A dude angel to be exact. “Definitely not your parents, that’s easy to tell.” This kid was absolutely fucking crazy. “Maybe a sister? No, too sensitive for that. Ah, it was a boyfriend.” His emerald eyes shot open at the boy’s words, his hand moving to hold him up on the bed. This kid was not natural. 

“What?” It was all Dean could say. How does someone guess that someone is depressed based on their actions and find out they lost someone? Then, not even sparing the guy’s feelings by just blatantly saying it out loud. 

“What? Did I get it right?” How do you respond to that? What was their relationship now? A dead angel fallen for the righteous man he rescued out of hell? 

“I’ve never had a boyfriend in my life, nice try.” He felt kind of smug, correcting the kid who seemed like a total smartass. He lost his mom Dean, try to be nicer. The kid’s face fell, his smug look fading as he looked to the ceiling with a pondering look. 

“Are you sure? It seemed right. It couldn’t be a girlfriend, parents, siblings, distant family, pets or anything else… “ It was impossible to believe the kid was so young from the way he could read a guy’s life just by watching him for a few moments. Wait.

“Wait, why couldn’t it be a girlfriend?” The man’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion as he still felt his eyes glistening from the previous tears. The kid shook his black hair, a grin present on his face as he stood up from the bed, walking towards the white lumber door, turning his head to look Dean up and down once again. 

“Because there’s no way you’ve had a serious relationship with a girl with a face like that. Oh, and this.” In his hand was an old photo, wrinkles at the yellow corners as he held it between his young fingers. Dean’s emerald eyes glared to try and see it more clearly before his eyes widened and he stood up abruptly reaching for the worn photo in the boy’s hand, but he kept it out of reach. “Yeah, I knew it. He’s handsome.” Dean was fighting the tears once again, that photo meant a lot to him recently, Sammy didn’t even know about it. He’d never admit to owning it. 

“Finn, that’s your name right? You gotta give that back, alright?” How the hell did the kid even get it in the first place? It was tucked safely in his suit jacket’s pocket on the inside of it. On the outside, Dean held his firm expression, but on the inside he was a mess, knowing that if he lost that photo, the only photo he had, he’d have nothing left. Nothing left to remind him of his angel and best friend. Finn moved the photo in front of his bright blue eyes, scanning over the wrinkled image as if he were checking someone out. 

“What’s with the trenchcoat? Is he an agent too?” Hold your anger Dean. With a frustrated sigh, Dean met the kid’s eyes, beginning to speak regretfully. 

“No. He just wore the thing around a lot. Look, I get you’re curious and all, but that’s important to me and I need it back.” Finn glanced at the old photo in his pale hand, nodding in understanding before opening the white door and beginning to walk out, ignoring Dean’s pleading. However, he chased him down the steps, interrupting the conversation between Mr. Aubrey and Sam. The two on the couch looked up startled as Finn strode up to Sam, holding the aged photo in front of his face while Dean stopped in his tracks, paralyzed. 

“Who’s this guy?” Sam’s eyes were blown wide, staring at the photo with curiosity, feeling a pang of pain in his heart upon seeing a photo of his once close friend. Sure, he was much closer to Dean, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a friend of Sam’s so when he died it depressed him as well. But he knew better than to get emotional right now. How did this random kid get a photo of Cas when him and Dean didn’t have one themselves? 

“How did you get that photo?” Finn rolled his eyes, shoving the photo closer to Sam’s face as he huffed in exaggeration. 

“Your partner over there obviously. Now-”

“Finn Jamison Aubrey!” A new voice piped up from the other end of the couch, Mr. Aubrey standing up straight with his arms crossed over his chest. “You do not speak to a federal agent in such a tone! Now, give that photo back to the nice gentleman.” His father pointed his index finger at him sternly, but his eyes were glossed over in concern as if he were confused about his son’s behavior. Finn sighed in defeat, his shoulders slouching and head hanging low as he gave the photo back to him, Dean taking it back in relief as he put it back in his suit jacket pocket. 

“He was a close friend of ours.” Sam stated simply as the boy nodded his head ‘thanks’ before heading to the kitchen, clearly embarrassed of his actions. “Now, Mr. Aubrey, thank you very much for your information, but we must head out now.” Mr. Aubrey nodded in agreement, beginning to lead the two ‘agents’ out the front door while they stood on the porch. The man couldn’t say anything else, so he began to shut the front door behind him when his kid ran out the door underneath his arm, a piece of paper in his left hand, waving it frantically. 

“Dean, wait!” He shouted, which caused the man to turn around rather quickly and glaring down at the boy who held out the small piece of white paper towards him with a sympathetic look. “Take this and...I’m sorry.” Dean took the small piece of paper between his fingers, while Finn sprinted back into his house. The paper was ripped, meaning it was ripped off a larger piece of paper but Dean opened it while Sam loomed over his shoulder in curiosity. On the paper in messy teenage boy handwriting read:

“Everything works out in the end, even the impossible can happen.” 

Why did that seem so familiar? Dean glared at it, reading the sentence over and over again as if it would help his understanding of the words. However, he noticed there was more written below it.

“P.S. Never close your eyes while in the room with a stranger. They might be able to pickpocket you.”

-  
“So, what’d the guy say?” Dean questioned as he drove the Impala back to their motel room in the bright light of late morning and casting a glance to his brother in the passenger seat. Sam fished out his notepad from his pocket, flipping through the pages of notes he gathered. 

“Well, apparently the monster he described as an average guy with brown hair except for his fangs and cat like eyes. But get this, he said the guy vanished into this white mist along with his wife which is why he thought he was having a nightmare. Said after he saw them vanish, he blacked out and found out the police found him and took him home. I’ve never heard of anything like it. ” The younger brother seemed completely fascinated in a new discovery for a case. His brother on the other hand was wary of the whole situation. Disappearing with white mist? Blacking out right after? Kid with inhuman observation skills? It was all too much. “I think I’m gonna head to the library and see if I can find anything else. You should do something for you, Dean. You’re worrying me, man. Find some girl or treat yourself to pie, just something.” As much as Dean appreciated his brother’s concern for him, none of it would help. Nothing would bring the angel back. Nothing would bring Cas back. 

“I told you Sammy I’m fine. I don’t need any girls or pie. Anyway, what’s with going to the library you have a computer, don’t you?” Sam was officially bewildered. Dean’s two favorite things, girls and pie, and he says he doesn’t need them? He had to find out what was wrong, but he can’t right now, they have a case. 

“I need some peace and quiet with all of your mumbling in your sleep.” Dean just rolled his eyes. Minutes later he heard the closing of Sam’s laptop lid and his hazel eyes focused on him. Oh no. That meant the guy wanted to talk about something serious. 

“How do you have a picture of him Dean?” Of course that’s what the guy asks out of everything. Dean stayed silent, his jaw clenched as he continued to drive, just trying to ignore Sam’s dire question.

“Where are we going Dean?” Castiel asked as he walked beside Dean on a cement sidewalk in the middle of Chicago. They had just finished a hunt with Sam, who was currently back at the motel asleep outside of the city, and Dean had told the angel he had something to show him. The man had a wide smile on his face as they walked past strangers talking on their phones, little kids running to catch up to their moms and of course the lingering smell of a pizzeria. The smell of freshly baked crust and the potent smell of garlic, with a tinge of cigarette smoke wafted their noses but Dean kept walking, clearly on a mission. Cas continued to stroll beside him, avoiding being shoved by people while looking up at the tall towers looming overhead. There were cars, taxis, tour buses and bicycles roaring past them but it seemed as if Dean didn’t even pass them a second glance. Well, that was until he stopped in front of a large restaurant, a big sign in the front saying “Gisepi’s” in large, black, cursive letters. The man had a large grin plastered on his face as he turned back to the angel who tilted his head in confusion. “Why are we here, Dean?” A family strolled into the brick building while Dean draped an arm over his shoulder and shook him a bit. 

“This, buddy, is where you’ll find the best pizza in the whole damn country.” He chuckled a bit before he heard the click of a camera and whipped his head around to find a small Asian girl with a short black ponytail and round glasses facing them. She jumped, clearly surprised by the noise as well as she shoved her round glasses up the bridge of her nose and began to walk away with her head down but Dean quickly chased after her. He could tell that girl just took a picture of them and if anything, she could be a spy for the angels or The Men of Letters. “Hey, where do you think you’re going? Just take a picture of us and run off?” The girl was held by her bicep, no way of being set free because Dean had a friendly smile on so no one would be suspicious. 

“I-I’m very sorry...I can explain I just...I was trying to get a picture of the building and-” 

“Dean, this girl is harmless.” Cas didn’t feel any weird wavelengths to identify an angel or the face of a demon and could tell she was not any other unnatural being. He let go of the small girl’s arm as she looked down at the disgusting cement sidewalk when they noticed the small polaroid picture in her hand. 

“Um...here you can have this. I’m really sorry again.” Her hand was shaking as she handed over the photo to Dean, who had clearly terrified the girl to death, and ran off without another word. Dean glanced over the photo in his hands before his green eyes grew wide and quickly shoved the small photo in his jean pocket. His hand guided Cas by his back inside while he asked for a table from the waitress. 

“Dean, can I have the photo to get rid of it? We never know-”

“No, I’ll uh hold onto it. That way no one will find it, even its scraps.”

“But Dean I-” The waitress interrupted Cas, leading the two to a table and as they sat down she gave the normal ‘enjoy your meal’ while Cas sat in the wooden dining chair in the middle of the restaurant across from Dean with his hands in his lap. Dean sat with his arms on the table and looking around the restaurant which was gorgeous inside. The walls were painted a bright red with pictures of old and new Chicago, Cubs, Bears, and Black Hawks pennants hanging around. The place was packed with people, especially in the dark red leather bound booths and the carpet was a crisp black. Burgers, pizza, and hotdogs filled the room with an entrancing aroma of tasty food that just made Dean’s mouth water. 

“Whatcha gettin’, Cas?” Cas ended the conversation about the photo after Dean made it very clear that he didn’t want to talk about it. 

However, Dean didn’t know that the photo would be the only thing he had left.

“You know he was my friend too, man. You can’t keep stuff like this from me.” Sam continued. He was hurt. His brother sighed as he took a left turn. 

“I’m sorry Sammy. I-” 

“Can I see it?” Sam interrupted. Dean’s heart dropped to his churning stomach, but hesitantly handed the photo over from his jacket pocket with a sigh. The younger looked over the photo, a sad smile falling on his face as his fingers grasped on the edge of the faded photo. The angel looked as he always did with his faded trench coat over his suit, messy black hair and curious blue eyes illuminated by the sun. But that’s what made it special. It held the angel’s memory of who he was. Not some brainwashed soldier of heaven, or evil monster. Just an angel trying to fight for what was right, but always ended up blamed and cursed for his mistakes. However what made the corners of Sam’s lips quirk upwards was Dean’s large, genuine smile as his arm hung over the angel’s shoulder. His brother seemed he was having fun and looked at Cas with admiration. It made his heart swell with emotion because it looked like a normal photo as if they were not an angel and a hunter but instead just two men. Sam handed the photo back over, glad he got to see his old friend once again and his brother happy. Immediately, Dean put the photo back in his pocket and patted it down. “Dean, who took the photo?” 

“Some girl.” 

“Some girl?” Dean huffed, feeling bothered by the question as he remembered the frightened girl who looked like a deer in the headlights, but she gave him a gift that day and for that he will always be grateful. 

“Yeah.”

“Well, she got a really nice photo. You actually look happy.” The older brother stayed silent, calmly nodding and pretending it wasn’t true in his mind.


End file.
